Background: Angela is shocked when William, an old friend from her past, who she hoped never to see again, comes back into her life, after he applies for a role at her work and successfully secures the job. William’s sudden reappearance puts Angela on edge. She’s terrified he’s discovered her secret, which she needs to protect her family from. William’s convinced Angela knows what happened to his former girlfriend, Caz, who hasn't been seen for twenty years, and that something terrible happened to her. The only person, who can help Angela, is her once best friend, Michelle, but Angela hasn’t seen Michelle for more than a decade. Faced with the threat of William’s return, they know they’ll need to work together to save their future, even if this does mean reopening old wounds, and revisiting a past they'd rather keep buried.

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‘Don’t forget your lunch!’

Lauren’s holding up a brown paper bag in the kitchen. My cheeks sting. How many times have I done that this week since I started my new job? It’s like I’m back at school, and Mum’s shouting at me not to forget my bag, or my PE kit, as I run to the front door, to try and make it on time for the school bus. I always tried to leave my PE kit behind on purpose. If I did, it meant I could just sit in the changing rooms and read a book, even if it meant getting a detention.

Lauren swings and throws the bag to me, which I catch with a triumphant cry. I punch the air with my free hand.

‘She shoots, she scores,’ Lauren says, laughing. ‘Did you have a chance to speak to Michelle this morning?’

I shake my head. ‘No, she pretty much blanked me. I don’t know what’s going on with her, normally she would’ve spoken to me by now, but we’ll figure it out soon, I’m sure. I’ll see you later.’

It’s been a few days since Caz stayed at the flat, yet still Michelle’s moping around like some miserable, stuck-up teenager. She could at least say something to us, just to put us out of our misery. Every time I speak to her at the moment, all she gives me is just one word answers. If she carries on like this, then we’re not going to want to stay here with her much longer. I thought she was going to end up having a go at me, when she got back from her run on the Sunday morning, but she said nothing. I was just glad Caz had gone by the time she got back. Perhaps Michelle thinks that by staying silent might make us think more about inviting strangers back to the flat without her permission.

I dive out of the flat, hurry up the set of stone steps and onto the main road. A black cab whizzes past me, which would’ve knocked me off my feet if I was going any quicker.

What time is it? I glance at my wrist watch. It’s eight thirty. It’s another half an hour before I’m due at work. At least the sun’s shining. It’s always pleasant walking through London when it’s a day like this. It makes London look like a dream. We’re not too far from St. James’s and Hyde Park. It’s nice to spend the afternoon there on a Saturday or Sunday. Lauren makes us a picnic on the odd occasion, if it’s nice weather. It just feels like a really British thing to do.

Fifteen minutes later I breeze into Stevie’s Flowers, round the corner from Victoria Station, the smell of jasmine hitting me in the face, which I’ve still not got used to, despite being here more than a week now. It always puts me in mind of the perfume my aunt wears. It used to make me crawl away from her when I was young, when she used to lean in and give me a kiss on my cheek, it used to make my eyes water, but that was because she put copious amounts of the stuff on. At least the smell didn’t have that effect on me when I came here for the job interview the other week.

‘Morning, Stevie,’ I say in a sing song voice. The young girl standing behind the till doesn’t say anything. She continues twirling a golden lock of her hair around her finger and turns the page of the magazine she’s reading.

I head towards the back of the shop. My job here mainly consists of packing up orders, and gift wrapping presents for people, who come in and buy stuff during the day. It’s pretty mundane, but at least I’m earning, like I promised my dad, so I’m not going to have my parents having a go at me for backing down on the promise I made them.

We don’t just sell plants; there are gift cards and small ornaments. I’m told they’re very popular at Christmas, although I’m not sure if I’m still going to be working here by then. I need to start looking around for jobs in the media, or in a bookshop, if I’m going to get anywhere in publishing.

‘Oh, someone left a note for you,’ Stevie says, without raising the tone of her voice, her fingers tracing a picture of Justin Timberlake in front of her. ‘I left it on your desk. It was a young girl with a pony tail.’

Michelle. Stevie doesn’t even look up in my direction. I ball my fists. She gets my back up. The only time when she does seem to come to life is when she’s serving customers. At least that’s something; she’d turn people off ever coming back if she spoke to them the way she speaks to me. Perhaps it’s because I’m new. I could’ve replaced someone who she got on with really well. She might warm to me more in a couple of weeks, I’ll have to try and persuade her to go out for a drink with me one night after work. I could get her to open up to me a bit more. Who knows, we might even become friends.

I search around before I find a small, folded up piece of paper on my worktop with my name written on it, Stevie didn’t exactly leave it in a place where it would be easy for me to spot. I snatch it up, pushing aside the wrapping paper and decorative bows, and flick it open.

Michelle’s handwriting is instantly recognisable. She leaves for work at around 8am. She probably would’ve got here just as Stevie was opening up. I can just imagine the look on Stevie’s faced when Michelle approached the door, she’s all for having customers, but not before 9am. She does have a bit of a habit of giving people short shrift if they arrive any earlier and then they don’t come back.

I read the words scrawled on the piece of paper and smile, although still a nervous shiver runs up my spine. I have no idea what Michelle's going to want to talk to me about when we do meet.

It’s just a simple message, but it tells me she’s finally ready to talk, at last.

Meet at Warrick Square for lunch.

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Character List:

Angela Watkins - Protagonist 

Paul Watkins - Angela's husband

Rebecca Watkins - Angela's daughter 

Michelle Blake - Angela's former best friend 

Kirsty - Receptionist (Angela's friend) 

Olivia - Angela's boss

William Harris - Angela's former friend 

Caroline (Caz) - Angela's friend 

Hayley - Angela's former friend

Lauren - Angela's former friend